


Closer

by Malivrag



Category: L.A. Guns (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Partying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 00:32:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13582227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malivrag/pseuds/Malivrag
Summary: A lot can change in the span of the seconds it takes a cigarette to burn down to ashes....





	Closer

Sometime past midnight, and Kelly's eyes are beginning to burn -- either from sheer exhaustion or all the smoke in the room. He's not sure.

Taime Downe's apartment looks exactly how you'd imagine: blackout curtains drawn across the windows. Some kind of harness hanging from the ceiling that Kelly both does and does not want to know the name of. And passed-out members of both sexes sprawled on the floors, mouths stained with messy lipstick residue, some with one forearm thrown across their eyes to block out the ambient light.

Taime and Tracii already vanished into one of the bedrooms... awhile ago. Kelly was too busy impressing some girl by dirty-talking in French to pay attention.

"J'suis assez bestial," and then a nip to the nape of her neck.

The girl went to the bathroom or something like that. She's been gone so long, Kelly's starting to think she's making out with another girl in there. He sighs and touches his last joint, which he has tucked securely behind his ear. He'll put his lips on it soon enough.

He steps over a guy who's laying in the middle of the floor, with a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. "Hey," Kelly starts to say to his bandmate Mick, who's sitting on the couch. "You wanna ditch this--"

He pauses. Mick might be asleep, actually. He's sitting bolt upright, but his eyes can't be seen behind his dark sunglasses and the rise and fall of his chest is steady. He lost his shirt sometime tonight; he's wearing his tattoos and a pair of black leather pants.

His belt is unbuckled. Kelly steps closer, splaying out his legs to stand over Mick. Mick's shiny belt buckle lays open and gaping, like the mouths of Taime's sleeping party guests after a few too many. A tempting trail of dark hair points the way from Mick's navel ever southwards, seeming to beckon to unknown delights barely kept contained in those leather pants.

Kelly indulges himself for a moment, lets his eyes take in the texture of Mick's skin, the colors of his tattoos, and the inky black of his hair. He's so close, he can feel Mick's cool breath brush his face.

A hand reaches up to cup his face and Kelly curses loudly.

"Thought I was asleep, did you?" Mick asks, and a nasty little grin reveals itself on his face.

"I was just checking to see if you were dead--"

"No, you weren't," says Mick. "Shut up. Come closer and kiss me."

Kelly catches his breath and does as he's told.

It's amazing, it's fucking amazing, Mick kisses him like he's drinking from him, like Kelly's mouth tastes divine. He kisses as though he's tasting ambrosia on his lips. Kelly collapses into his lap and feels Mick's arms wind around him. He writhes around even though he's a bit too much of a lapful and he's in danger of tumbling onto the floor.

The guy behind them on the floor starts to snore softly.

Mick pulls away and breathes against his mouth, "The floor's on fire."

"What the fu--" Kelly turns his head to look. Shit! The guy he stepped over, his cigarette has burnt down and the red embers are lighting the dirty carpet on fire.

Kelly leaps up and stamps out the nascent fire, cursing as he does so. There's a scorched spot on Taime Downe's carpet but they're not going to die in an inferno, at least not tonight.

"All right, fuck it. Where were we?" Kelly turns back to Mick, only to see Mick lighting a joint and smiling that nasty grin at him again.

Kelly reaches up to touch the joint he has tucked behind his ear. Had tucked behind his ear.

"Son of a bitch!"


End file.
